Playing With Fire
by Madison Bellows
Summary: Born into a NYPD/FD family, Samantha Murphy had one last chance to prove her family wrong; would the men of Ladder 62 let her in? Even if they don't, Sam is still going to end up playing with fire. L/S/V SLOW UPDATES!
1. Good Luck With That

_A/N: Needed to take a little break from my other stories, and the plot bunnies would not leave this one alone. Don't know what I think about it yet, but would love to hear any feedback you have. Like CSI:NY and CBS, I don't own Rescue Me or FX or Dennis Leary or any of that. I am simply a girl with too much time, too little money and a laptop. Italics in the story are thoughts, usually Sam's internal dialog. Starts with 101 "Guts", spoilers for all. Thanks for reading! _

* * *

Samantha Murphy nervously hitched her tote from one shoulder to another, debating if it would look more professional if she puller her hair up or if she should leave it down. Dr. Goldberg was supposed to be meeting her there, but was running late; having had an emergency at her private practice. Sam desperately hoped today would go better than last night, she needed to find some house that would let her do her research otherwise she was never going to finish her damn degree. Of course that would prove everyone in her family right and she would never be able to show her face at a family function again, cutting down on the only social life she currently had to speak of.

"Should have just gone through the academy", she grumbled to herself.

"You lost or something?" a man appearing to be in his early forties wearing an FDNY pullover and black pants asked, taking a long drag off his cigarette.

Sam shook her head, "Waiting on someone".

"Let me guess, Franco?" Sam shook her head again. The man wrinkled his forehead."Garrity?" Another shake. "It can't be the new probie, no way he could pull-"

"I am waiting on Hannah Goldberg, they sent us from headquarters?" Sam cringed as her voice rose on the end. Her nervousness getting the better of her, making everything seems like a question.

"Headquarters? They pulling pencil pushers out of elementary schools now? Jesus!" The man threw down his cigarette and crushed it with enough force to cause Sam to involuntarily press herself closer to the brick wall.

"I'm not a pencil pusher", Sam said, her voice coming out much more meekly than she desired. _Come on girl, get it together. Remember what pop said about not showing weakness, you can do this. _

"What the hell are you then?" the man snapped.

Sam felt the last dregs of her bravado shrinking."A psychologist?", she squeaked out.

"You asking me or telling me?"

"I'm working on it, I'm ABD...all but the dissertation and that's actually why I am here, I'm interning with Dr.-"

The man made a swiping motion in front of his neck, "Don't want to hear it sweet cheeks, but good luck with that". His sarcasm made it clear he was wishing her anything but good luck.

"Er, thanks." Sam sighed as the man walked back into the firehouse.

Tommy Gavin walked into the kitchen and snorted in disgust,"Christ, they sent out two head shrinkers. Do they think this is a fucking nut house?"

* * *

"Some very well might say it is", Lieutenant Ken Shay replied, barely glancing up from his newspaper, busily puffing away at his cigar.

"Sorry I am late, it has been one of those days. You could have gone inside", Dr. Goldberg said rushing up to the younger woman.

"Seemed safer out here", Sam answered taking a deep breath.

The woman looked around apprehensively, "Samantha this is Harlem!"

Sam shrugged, "As I said..."

"Well I suppose if any of my interns can take care of themselves, you can".

Sam gave a small grin. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. Oh and by the way, I am betting the mood of this firehouse is just about as welcoming as the one last night".

* * *

"We won't know until we go in there", Dr. Goldberg answered sunnily, striding inside.

"Oh hey, one of them nature programs where they fight to the death", Franco Rivera exclaimed, stopping his incessant channel surfing.

"I've got 50 on the lion", Chief Jerry Riley announced, pulling a wad of money from his pocket.

* * *

"Hyenas to match", Shay replied.

The older woman walked in, looking prim and proper in her suit. The younger one came behind, busily taking notes and not seeming to notice the eyes following her every move. "Is Chief Riley here? I'm Doctor Goldberg and this is my associate, Samantha Murphy".

The Chief rose to shake the older woman's hand. The rest of the men continued to watch tv, pretending to pay little attention to the women in the room, despite desperately trying to steal glances of them.

Sam took in the heart of the house, the smoke curling in the air and desperately wished she hadn't promised her grandmother she would quit smoking.

"This is the shrink", Riley announced.

"Actually I am a psychotherapist, and Ms. Murphy is my intern".

Riley all but rolled his eyes, "Yeah well. Headquarters thoughts it might be a good idea for these doctors to stop by the firehouse for a coupla hours at a clip so we could get our feelings off our chest".

Sam wanted to roll her own eyes at the laughter in his voice, but restrained herself and continued to stare into her notebook. Dr. Goldberg sank into a chair with ever present grace and ease, something Sam enviously admired. Sam stood awkwardly behind her, silently observing.

Dr. Goldberg explained their presence as she untied the chic scarf from around her neck. "We're finding that the effects of 9/11 are still being felt. Especially among members of the police and firefighters-"

A younger man wearing an FDNY hat cut her off yelling out, "Jesus, look at the lions".

Sam followed the man's hand to the screen, watching as a lioness devoured another animal on screen. She smirked to herself as the other men reacted, taking note of the pile of money on the table. _Good to see these boys operate the same way, betting on anything and everything. _

"Well we are here to help if you would like to talk", Dr. Goldberg continued, seemingly unruffled, though Sam knew she was.

"But we don't have to if we don't want to, right?" a man wearing a shirt embroidered 'Rivera' asked.

_Typical_, Sam thought to herself, _and just like every male in your family. Which is why they would let you in any house where they knew anyone, leaving slim pickings for you, Samantha my dear. _

Dr. Goldberg looked at the olive skinned man with empathetic eyes. "No you don't but-"

Even as she trailed off, Sam knew exactly what was going to happen, just as it had happened last night and every other time she had witnessed someone trying to get New York's finest or bravest to open up.

The man pushed quickly back from the table, his chair screeching against the dingy linoleum. The others quickly followed suit, grabbing their winnings from the pile on the table as they rapidly disappeared from the kitchen.

Only one man remained behind, the same one Sam had encountered on the street. _Just great, he is probably going to give us the whole brotherhood speech about how we don't understand because we aren't one of them. Which is true for most of these hippies. But Downtown is right, they aren't dealing with it, at least not in a good way. Just ask my dad or my brothers or my cousins or their friends Jack, Jose and Evan. _

Dr. Goldberg scratched her head, not shocked, but feeling like this was a waste of her time. She also felt bad for Samantha, who wanted to get her research done so badly, who was still young and idealistic enough to think she could actually make a difference, poor kid.

"Look Doc, um", the man apparently named Gavin started in.

Dr. Goldberg held up a hand, "Oh you don't need to explain. I was at another firehouse last night and the reaction was quite similar".

Sam chewed her lip, drinking in the other woman's tact. _At least they didn't chase us out of here with their halagens, that is an improvement. _

"Yeah well the guys are not going to talk to a therapist, especially a female one", Gavin replied, going for a pot of coffee that was dark enough to make Sam spontaneously drool.

"What about the female firefighters?" Dr. Goldberg pressed on.

The reply was the one Sam expected, "We don't have any female firefighters.

"Are you threatened by women?"

Sam inwardly groaned at this, knowing that baiting the man wasn't going to win any favors or open any doors.

"You don't seem to think a woman can be a firefighter".

"I'll tell you what, it's not being about a man or a woman", Gavin shot back, walking over to face off the older woman.

Sam circled around the other side of the table, pulling her travel mug out of her bag and helping herself to the coffee.

"It's about doing the job. It's about me getting home safe and sound in the morning to see my kids", Gavin continued, barely glancing in Sam's direction as he continued his speech. "So if you got a woman who can do the job better than the guys on my crew, bring her on".

Sam stopped listening as she stirred creamer into her coffee, knowing from personal experience what the speech sounded like. She had heard it many times from her grandfather and several other men on her mother's side of the family. It didn't even stop after her cousin Ginny joined Rescue Company No. 3 out in the Bronx. Of course that may be because Ginny was built like a battle-axe and could bench press the Giant's starting lineup, so she didn't really count as a woman.

Sam fought down a snicker as she heard Dr. Goldberg say "I am sensing a lot of hostility" and Gavin shot back, "You are very, very perceptive".

But she could not contain her shock when Gavin did actually start talking about his feelings, in the round about way that men of his ilk did, through storytelling of calls gone bad. Sam sucked in a sharp intake of breath as Gavin revealed the house had lost four men, one of whom was his cousin. His pain and grief was clear as he told them about Jimmy Keefe. Sam felt her own grief welling up in her eyes, an uncle and a cousin lost when the towers went down. She felt herself nodding when Gavin said, "if there is a God, he's got a whole shit load of explaining to do", but stopped as Dr. Goldberg shot her a look and Gavin kicked out at the table and stormed out of the room.

"What?" Sam asked as Dr. Goldberg rubbed her head.

"Are you sure you have dealt with your grief enough to handle this, Samantha?"

"Aren't our own issues why we become therapists?" Sam shot back, taking a long pull of her coffee and wishing there was whiskey in it.

The older woman closed her eyes. "Not to the detriment of our jobs".

"I'm dealing with it, as much as anyone else. Better than they are. And I have to do this". Sam looked at her mentor with pleading eyes, knowing this was one of her last shots. If they didn't take her the past few years had been a waste of time and money, neither of which Sam had to spare.

Dr. Goldberg nodded slowly before speaking, "Fine, if they'll take you, I'll sign off. Good luck, you'll need it".

With that, she exited, leaving Sam behind in the empty kitchen with her last hope and little prayer.


	2. Home Is Where The Crazy Is

**_A/N: Thanks for my reviews and lurkers! Feedback is always appreciated!! This chapter is more background on Sam and working on tying her in to Ladder 62._**

* * *

"Just so you know- Sam said as she left the kitchen and saw Gavin standing outside having a smoke with two of the other guys. She took note as the tallest of the three rolled his eyes and walked away, but didn't break eye contact with Gavin. She took a big gulp of air before continuing, "I would have put my money on the lion too".

Tommy Gavin snickered at this, not expecting spunk from the seemingly serious girl. "Well you should have. Think for yourself Probie, don't let these fucking warm and fuzzies break you down".

"I've got five brothers that will kick my ass if I do", Sam replied with a shrug.

He nodded in understanding. "What makes you want to be a shrink anyway?"

"I don't want to be a shrink-"

"Fine therapist, what the fuck ever".

Sam took a chance on telling her own truth, something her professors always warned against. "I just want to help, in my blood I guess. I just don't want to see any more cops or firefighters eat their guns or drink themselves to death".

"You have family in the department". It was a statement more than a question.

Sam nodded, "Both sides, PD and FD. Real fun when they all get together, regular blood bath, and don't even get me talking about where to sit at hockey games".

He smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Good luck out there, kid".

Sam sensed this one was much more sincere than before."Thanks, um, Mr. Gavin".

"Jesus, what am I, 70? It's Tommy". He spit out his cigarette and crushed it before sticking out a callused palm. "And this dumb mute here is Sean Garrity". Tommy jostled Sean to pull his hands out of his pockets. He awkwardly did so and Sam shook his hand with a laugh.

"Nice to meet you both, maybe I'll see you around at a game or something".

"If you sit on the right side, Garrity will buy you a beer".

"I will?" Sean gaped.

"Depends on who's winning", Sam shot back before giving them a small salute and walking away.

* * *

Both men watched after her until she turned the corner, Tommy shaking his head before pausing to slap the bricks behind Garrity. "Hey shit for brains, quit gawking".

Sam made her way over Broadway, ignoring the catcalls that followed her down the streets of Harlem. She hopped on the 1 train, heading home to Riverdale, with plans to stop and see her parents along the way. Sam hoped her father was actually home and not warming the seat of his favorite stool (third from the end by the door) at his local watering hole. He seemed to be doing that more and more since his mandatory retirement, not that the seat hadn't already bore a permanent impression of his ass cheeks. She also hoped her mother wasn't in "one of her moods", but that was like hoping that a battalion would randomly call her up and ask her to ensconce herself in their house and observe them 24/7.

When people discovered Sam had grown up in the Bronx, they usually conjured up images of wannabe mobsters and men who wore too many gold chains. While Riverdale may have a few enclaves of Cosa Nostra, for the most part it was just a leafy family-friendly neighborhood. Not quite Yonkers, most certainly not Manhattan; Riverdale was Pleasantville infiltrated by hipster kids who couldn't afford the City. To Sam it was just simply home. She had grown up here, as had her parents and her grandparents. Her brother, Frances (who now went by the moniker 'FX'), was always telling her she needed to get out of the neighborhood and see the world, but Sam figured that was best left up to someone with his rock star lifestyle. Sam hopped off at 238th and headed over to Waldo Ave, where her parents and grandmother lived uneasily side by side in the home of her childhood.

* * *

Sam let herself in through the front door, wincing as it banged behind her and then smiling as her father called from the den, "The queen is upstairs in her studio, can't hear a damn thing".

"Hey Pop, how's it going?" Sam greeted her father with a kiss on his cheek.

"About as well as can be expected, Button", he replied, tugging on her ruddy ponytail.

"I here ya", Sam replied as she flopped down on the couch and kicked off her heels.

"No luck at this house either?" he father asked, peering over his newspaper.

Sam propped her chin in her palm. "One guy actually did talk to the Doc for a minute, but it was more of a rant. At least they didn't chase us out of the kitchen this time. I dunno, it seems like I am swimming upstream..." Sam trailed off and flopped over on her stomach.

"Why don't you just call Colin?"

"Because those guys would never be themselves, I would be Murphy's little sister and it wouldn't be-"

"Scientific", Patrick Samuel Murphy cut in. "Sammy, I don't know why you have your heart set on this, it has been a struggle for you since day one, when I know you could have breezed through academy or already have been-"

"If you say social worker I swear ta God, Pops, I will leave and not come back for a long time", Sam snapped, launching herself off the couch, her turquoise eyes flashing greener because of her anger.

"Calm down girl", her father said, setting down his paper slowly. "I just hate to see you putting yourself through more than you need to. We will love you even if you are Dr. Murphy. Don't go killing yourself for a piece of paper to hang on your wall. Besides, you love your Nona's cooking far too much to ever stay away for long".

Sam let out a laugh that calmed her enough to sit back down. "True enough. Speaking of which..." she sniffed the air, "what is for dinner tonight?"

"Is it Wednesday?" he father retorted with an arched eyebrow. Sam nodded. "Then we are having what I have had ever Wednesday for 63 years", Patrick picked back up his paper and went back to his crossword, "you might want to go over there and see if she needs some help".

* * *

"Is that corned beef and cabbage I smell?" Sam asked by way of announcing her arrival as she slipped into her grandmother's section of the house.

"Of course it is, girlie", her spy 81 year old grandmother answered, coming out of her kitchen with a wooden spoon in her hand. "And how is my most beautiful and intelligent granddaughter?" she said, giving her granddaughter a tight squeeze and smack on the cheek, standing on her tiptoes to do so; her petite frame barely reaching five feet in heels.

"Nona, I am your only granddaughter", Sam replied with a roll of her eyes.

The older woman laughed an elfin like chuckle that matched her appearance, "'Tis so, my dear, but even if you weren't. I am allowed to have my favorites". She winked before padding back into the kitchen, "Help me with this pie, would you dear".

Sam followed her into the tiny kitchen, wondering for the millionth time why her grandmother didn't just come next door to cook in their spacious and never used kitchen, since that is where all the food ended up anyway. Sam knew the answer was in the willowy form of her crazy mother, but since she spent most of her time in her "studio" or the "garden (in reality the part of the attic that used to be Sam's bedroom and a tiny patch of grass with ever dying flowers since her mother spent more time trying to paint them than water them), there wasn't a good reason for Nona to cook in the cramped quarters they barely both fit in.

"She's in the attic, Nona, why don't you just finish this over there?", Sam asked as she squeezed herself over to the tiny dinette table crammed against a wall.

Nona patted her head, "This is my space, that is theirs, child. Much like you insist upon paying a ridiculous amount of money for that shoe box you call a studio".

"I love my place, and I get my own bathroom!" Sam shot back.

"Though I do rather miss your brothers banging on my door complaining that you were taking too long with your bath. How all eight of you managed to not kill each other with only one bathroom I will never know".

"We tried plenty of times, let me tell you, but pops always locked up his guns". Sam gave a wry smile as she watched her grandmother carefully roll out her pie crust.

"Are you ever going to let me come over and teach you how I do this? Would help you get a man if you could at least manage to boil water. Only way you take after your mother", Nona paused to make a sign of the cross, "God bless, I suppose it could be worse".

Sam snorted, her grandmother tried her best to not speak ill of her daughter-in-law, but their was an uneasy truce between the two of them that threatened to fall apart at all times. "I know how to cook Nona, I just don't see the point in cooking for 1", Sam answered.

"And you would have to remove your books from the oven", Nona teased.

"There are no books in my oven, Nona! In the kitchen cupboards, yes, but not in the oven", Sam shot back, silently adding that the oven was where she kept her sneaker collection. "And why would I cook when you always make enough food to feed a battalion?"

"What are you going to do when I am gone? You and your father are going to starve to death. Luckily your mother already eats like a bird".

"Don't talk like that, No, you still got plenty of years before you kick it".

"Such a sweet girl", Nona teased before turning back to her pie, "and you actually look like a girl today in that skirt. It suits you Samantha, it wouldn't hurt you to put some effort into your appearance you know. When I was your age-"

"Pu-lease, Nona, don't give me the eight kids and a husband and a household to run while still vacuuming in pearls speech", Sam whined.

Nona shook her head,"We didn't have enough money for pearls, child, why would anyone want to waste their hard earned money on oyster spit? I just want to see you happy, not rushing around in a sweats mumbling about New York's Finest and Bravest refusing to talk to you".

Sam groaned, "You too, huh? Well I may have reached the end of the line. If I can't get this last house to talk to me, I am going to have to take Colin up on his offer or find a whole new dissertation topic, which I can't afford to do".

Nona tutted for a moment. "You could always move in here, I've got the space, if you don't mind being with an old lady".

"You complain enough about me not ever having dates, how am I supposed to bring a guy home to my grandmother's? Especially next door to my parents!" Sam made a face.

"Perhaps you shouldn't be bringing them home, Samantha". Her grandmother gave her the eye and crossed herself once again.

Sam slumped in her chair."Yeah, yeah, I know, I make baby Jesus cry with all my drinking and cursing and carousing. Mind you I have only been doing the first two as of late".

"You modern girls, I will never understand", Nona said, crimping the edges of the pie with precision.

"Neither will I, Nona", Sam answered before heading back next door.

* * *

"Ma, hey ma!" Sam called out before hauling herself up the attic ladder.

"Samantha, darling, how many times do I have to ask you children to call me Mary or Mary Francis? Ma sounds like a bleating barnyard animal, not to mention making me sound old".

"A thousand apologies, mother", Sam answered curling her lip behind her mother's back.

Mary turned on her stool from the easel underneath the tiny attic window. "What do you think of my latest masterpiece?"

Sam cocked her head to the side, trying to decipher what was going on in the picture, other than looking like a six year old in the middle of a seizure threw paint on a canvas. "Very avant guard", Sam replied, carefully.

"I know, isn't it?" her mother said proudly. "I also decided to get my own potter's wheel, I felt it was time to expand my mediums. I needed to move out the last of your old belongings before it was delivered, so I packed them up and put them in the living room. Your father can drive you home with them".

"Gee thanks", Sam answered, looking around her former childhood room. Her mother's desire for an artist's retreat had wiped any trace of Sam's childhood from the quarter of the attic she had called hers growing up. Which is why Sam's kitchen held every book she had ever owned from the age of three, and her laughably small closet never shut properly.

"No problem at all, darling, I always like to do what I can for my children, you know that", Mary replied, turning back to her canvas.

Sam bit her tongue hard enough to taste blood, wondering how refusing to take her medication and taking frequent unannounced vacations was doing for her children other than giving them all an excuse to drink heavily. She knew better than to voice her opinions; the result only being her mother going off the deep end into one of her legendary rages, and one of her brother's having to sort things out with the local precinct so the desk sarge could loose the paperwork from the uniforms that got called out to the house.

"Nona is making apple pie, you should try to eat at least something today, mother". Sam knew her mother had been in a state of mania for several days, as every visit this week had resulted in a trip up to the attic to check in on her. Sam also knew that her mother hadn't showered, eaten or done much other than paint, drink coffee, and chain smoke clove cigarettes if the pile of unwashed mugs and overflowing ashtray was any indication. _At least she hasn't been drinking_, Sam thought with an internal sigh.

"I'm not hungry, darling, and I want to finish this series as soon as possible. One of the people at the center owns a gallery and might be able to give me a show".

"You've been going to the center?" Sam asked, the question popping out of her mouth in surprise. Her mother hated going to the community center run by the National Alliance for the Mentally Ill, as she refused to be "labeled as crazy merely because she was a creative and passionate soul".

"Now and then, it is good company for whenever your father abandons me for the pub", Mary answered, flinging an angry swatch of red paint on the canvas.

Sam could tell her mother was tensing up. She desperately wanted to avoid Wold War III that evening, her past couple of weeks had been miserable enough as it was. "I am sure he is just still trying to adjust to being retired, mother, it will all even out soon. And I am certain if you get a showing your work will sell out on opening night". Sam patted her mother on the shoulder, before retreating from the attic.


	3. Make A Call

_**A/N: I promise I'll be back to the boys of 62 Truck soon enough, I just had to get the set up right first. Damn continuity fairy! Also, for those of you who have read "NOLA Rising", yes it is the same Colin Murphy and he is still a jerk, but he is a good brother.**_

* * *

"I'm just saying she's running out of options and running herself into the ground, there has to be someone you can get her in with-" Patrick Murphy clammed up as his daughter enter the room, storm clouds gathered in her expression. "Talk to you later, son", he said hastily hanging up the phone. "Still the same?" he asked knowing the answering.

"What else is new?" Sam said with a sigh, sitting back down on the couch and rubbing at her temples.

"Chin up, button, something will shake out soon, I can feel it". Sam's father tapped her on the head with his newspaper before heading to the entryway and pulling on a jacket.

"You're leaving?" Sam asked, more shocked that he had still been at the house.

"Was just waiting to see how things had went for you, going to meet the boys for a couple of pints".

"Have fun pops", Sam called after him, thinking she could use a couple of pints herself.

"Thanks for the leftovers, Nona", Sam said as she was leaving her grandmother's house for the evening.

"No problem, I know how busy you have been lately, good to see you are still taking the time to eat".

"I always take time to eat, no worries there".

"Good, because you leave me enough other things to worry about, like when are you going to find a hus-"

"Goodnight, Nona", Sam called, closing the door on a familiar conversation.

* * *

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Sam said as the figure stepped out of the shadows in front of her building.

"Nice greeting, Sammy".

Sam cocked a hand on her hip, twirling her keys around a finger on her other hand."Just be glad I'm not packing like Paddy and Seamus wanted, otherwise I could have popped on in you, lurking by my front door like that".

The man laughed, "More like shoot yourself in the foot".

"Fuck off, Colin!" Sam growled, brushing past him to let herself into the building.

"Come on, Sis", Colin called after her, catching the door before it slammed shut on his foot.

Sam whirled around, poking her finger at her brother's muscular chest. "What do you want, Colin? You want to make fun of me some more? To say 'I told you so' because you heard no one wants to let me into their house to observe? To tell me I should have just gotten knocked up because I'm not cut out for anything more? I heard you the last time you said all those things to me, and I don't really want a repeat of your supposedly supportive big brother act".

"Just stop for a sec and listen to me, OK, Sammy?"

"Only if you stop calling me Sammy and let go of me, you big oaf!"

Colin released his younger sister resignedly, "Look can we talk, maybe get a pint, your neighbors are looking antsy".

"And whose fault is that?" Sam shot back and then realized that their location close to the mailboxes was making them a sideshow for the lobby. She sighed and said, "Sure, I could use a pint. Just let me change first".

Colin followed his younger sister down the hallway to her studio. "Put this away, I gotta change out of this damn suit", Sam said, shoving the carrier bag she had been holding in his direction and striding off towards the bathroom.

"Is this Nona's corned beef?" Colin called, setting the plastic container in the mostly empty fridge.

"Just like it is every Wednesday, C. You could come by and get it directly from her you know", Sam yelled back through the bathroom door. Colin made a face. "I saw that", Sam yelled again, "and Nona loves you!"

"It's not Nona I am worried about", Colin replied, making a face as he pulled out a moldy hunk of something from the fridge and threw it in the trash, "Jesus Sam, you've got shit in here from the Clinton years".

Sam ignored his comment and stepped out of the bathroom, yanking a sweater over her long sleeved t-shirt."Mom's doing better, mostly. She's been going to the center".

"Don't make excuses for her, Sam, she treats us all like shit and you know it", Colin's olive skin flushed with anger as he clenched his fists. Sam had to snicker, because the angrier he got, the more her looked like the Italian mother he hated. "What are you laughing it at?" he demanded, his brown eyes almost black.

"Nothing, bro, come on, I need that drink", Sam replied with a shake of her head.

* * *

After trudging up the hill to Sam's favorite dive bar and settling themselves in with a couple of shots and pint chaser, Colin turned to his sister with a grave look on his face. "Pop's worried about you".

Sam took her shot of whiskey, closing her eyes at the sweet burn."Jesus, C, I'm not dying, I'm just having a little trouble with my placement and my dissertation advisor, who is a grad-A pervy asshole, by the way".

Colin rubbed at his neck, agitated that his sister was remaining so stubborn. "Would you just come to my house and get it over with?"

Sam shook her head, "No way, Jose. I know those guys, they wouldn't be themselves around me, they wouldn't open up".

Colin laughed, "Nobody is going to open up to you, kid, in any house ever".

"But I wouldn't be Murphy's little sister in other houses", Sam pointed out.

"We lost 6 guys, what more do you want?"

"A little more distance and to not have to look at your ugly mug every day".

Colin narrowed his eyes for a moment before taking a long drink of his beer. "What about Pat or Shay?"

Sam shrugged, running the tip of her finger around the rim of the pint glass. "NYPD is too nebulous, I need more of a controlled environment. They didn't get hit as hard either".

"Damn straight they didn't", Colin said, tipping back his glass and draining it, "but it has been three years, Sam, a lot of the guys have moved on".

Sam scowled at her brother, knowing it was just one of his defense mechanisms."No they haven't, you know that as well as I do. It just isn't as cool to talk about it any more!"

"Hey sexy, is this seat taken?" A willowy, stick thin bottle blond had wandered up beside her brother and was giving him big blue doe eyes, with what Sam could spot were colored contacts.

"Can't take you anywhere", Sam grumbled into her drink, motioning for another round.

"Oh, I'm sorry, is that your girlfriend?" the blond asked, her giggle even less genuine than her appearance.

"My sister", Colin explained, grinning wide enough to show off his girl catching dimples.

_Not that he needs the damn dimples_, Sam thought, _like being a tall muscular fireman with a square jaw wasn't enough._ "

Sister? Is she, like, adopted?" the young woman dropped her voice on the last word, as if she were saying "cancer".

Sam rolled her eyes. The only thing Colin had gotten from their father was his height. Everything else about him was from their mother: his dark brown eyes, near black hair, deep dimples and olive complexion. Frankie was the same, except shorter. She, Seamus and Sean were all spitting images of their father: ruddy complexions, unruly reddish hair, freckles, not quite green or blue eyes. Of course Sam had managed to inherit her mother's vertically challenged stature and what her brother's teased as her "junk in the trunk". Paddy was a mix of both his parents with his dimples and dark hair, light eyes and a complexion Sam thought was entirely wasted on a man.

"No she isn't, but she is kind of going through a rough time, so..." he made a little shooing motion, which the woman ignored.

"Aren't you just the sweetest", she cooed, rubbing his arm.

"Yeah, well, so I have been told, but I am trying to, ya know...", he shrugged.

"Oh, I see", the woman simpered and then deftly pressed her card into his hand. "How about you call me when you want a good time?" She sauntered off, wiggling her assets as every male in the place swiveled to watch her go.

"Colin Murphy, I have never seen you turn down such easy pussy", Sam said with a smirk.

"I'm trying to take it easy", Colin said, stealing Sam's shot of whiskey and downing it before she could even protest. "

You haven't taken it easy since you turned 14, C", Sam laughed, taking a long retaliatory drink of his beer.

Colin spread his hands wide, "I know, I know, but I figure I am coming up on 30 and already have an ex-wife behind me, so maybe I should try to straighten up a bit".

Sam gaped at this rather mature statement coming from her notoriously immature playboy of a brother."You sure you haven't been talking to Nona?"

"She would tell you a tiger can't change its stripes", Colin snorted into the glass he had wrestled back.

"You married Isabella because you were 19 and she told you she was knocked up, how were you supposed to know she was lying and crazy?" Sam countered, not wanting to see her brother beat himself up.

"Easy, she reminded me of Ma", Colin laughed and raised his glass in her direction before finishing it off.

"Mind you sleeping with her Maid of Honor at the rehearsal dinner was probably the brightest idea you have ever had..."

"Telling her little sister was probably not the brightest idea you ever had either", Colin retorted.

"Give me a break, I was 15! And I did wait until after you came back from your honeymoon and had figured out she wasn't pregnant", Sam pointed out sagely.

"Well thank Christ for that, huh?" Colin shook his head, trying to not go to a dark place. "Why won't you just take my help, you stubborn ass?" he asked after they sat in silence for a long moment.

"Because nobody thinks I can get do this, and I want to prove them wrong", Sam admitted after another pause.

"Sam, do you even want this or do you just want to get it so you can say 'I told you so'?"

Sam gave a small shrug, not wanting to get into all of this right now. "It doesn't matter anyway, I am already in the whole 3 years and more money than I like to think about".

Colin looked at her like he was debating cuffing her upside the head."It does matter if you aren't doing what you want to be. I love what I do, even when it is a pain in the ass, and you couldn't trade me anything for that. I know the risks when I put on my gear everyday, but better than than humping a desk like Sean, but hell, that's what he loves to do. You are allowed to make a couple mistakes, kid. I know you are used to being the perfect Murphy kid and all but cut yourself some slack".

"Whatever Colin, I am a dissertation and a coupla exams away from a PhD, its a little late in the game to be questioning my career path". Sam rolled her eyes with a sigh. Colin just shook his head and remained silent. Finally Sam gave in, the silence killing her. "What can you do for me not at your house?"

Colin chewed on his lip for a moment before smiling, "I knew you would break down eventually".

"Colin!" Sam punched out at her brother's arm and he punched right back.

"Ow, dammit, you just hit a girl".

"You are no girl, Sammy. Let me make a couple of phone calls and I'll let you know".

"Thanks, C", Sam replied throwing her arms around him.

Colin moved out of her hug, looking embarrassed. "No problem, but it means you are picking up the tab".

"Asshole", Sam said before dropping some crumpled bills on the bar.


	4. Welcome

**A/N: I know it has been forever since I updated this one, so thanks for hanging in there. I will hopefully update more as we get closer and closer to _Rescue Me_ finally coming back on!!!!!**

* * *

It was seemingly forever before Colin got back to Sam. She had all but lost hope and was ready to change her dissertation topic at the insistence of her advisor, who Sam believed had an ulterior motive for getting her into his lab. She was out of time and luck, her choices limited to the point that taking her current degree to Starbucks was beginning to look appealing.

"Just who is your favorite brother?" Colin asked as soon as she picked up his call.

"Depends, usually Pat but Frankie gives better Christmas gifts", Sam teased, moving out of the flow of pedestrian traffic on 10th.

"In that case, I gotta go, we just got a call out", Colin joked back, leaning against the wall of the kitchen in his firehouse, trying to block out the noise coming from his co-workers.

"Fuck off, Colin, you really are an ass wipe", Sam drolled.

"Yeah and you are a god damned bitch, but what are you gonna do?"

"New girlfriend, Murphy?" one of the guys called.

Colin narrowed his eyes, holding the phone away from his ear."Its my little sister, dip shit".

The guy raised his eyebrows. "The one with the great ass?"

Colin growled protectively,"I only have one sister and you better not be looking at her fucking ass, Nelson".

"Yo bro, still here", Sam yelled across the line, trying to ignore the panhandler trying to get her attention.

Colin gave Nelson the middle finger before turning around to talk to his sister."Sorry Sammy. Anyway, I talked to Nicky who has an uncle at that house you were at the other day. And his uncle is apparently trying to get in with Downtown and so he is all on board with this therapy crap thing, and one of Nicky's brothers is on Engine 99 and he spread the word that you were hot, so I think the guys might be convinced. You might have to put out, though".

"Gee thanks, Colin, with an offer like that", Sam sighed.

"Better than putting out for your pervert of an advisor, right?"

"Thanks for reminding me of my variety of options, C".

Colin shook his head and rubbed his neck."Look, I'm trying here, Sammy, but nobody really wants to talk to a shrink or play with puppets or whatever else the fuck you want them to do. They want to fight fires, play ball or hockey, talk about pussy and get laid. You are really going to put a wrench in the works just by being there".

"I grew up with you lot, how different can it be?" Sam blew out her cheeks in frustration.

"Being a little sister and being a hot chick in the house are two very different things, Sam".

"I know, I swear I do. I just need a placement like yesterday".

"Well call this guy Perolli and ask for a meeting. You might want to wear something low cut", Colin suggested, even if one of the last things he wanted was any of his kind leering at his kid sister.

"Thanks Colin, I owe you one", Sam said, sidestepping the panhandler and doing a little jog up the street.

"You owe me way more than one", Colin said before hanging up.

"Your sister really going to be in a house?" Nelson asked.

"Seems that way", Colin said, dropping down at the table and opening a soda can. "

She's in for one hell of a ride", Nelson said with a grin. "

Tell me about it", Colin agreed.

* * *

"Um, Chief Perolli?" Sam asked as she hesitantly knocked on the door marked with his name. A different man than she had met the last time at the house waved her in, hastily wiping potato chip crumbs off his shirt.

"Come in, come in, you must be the psychologist that called. Ron Perolli, take a seat, though I gotta tell you that you might stain the pretty suit of yours".

Sam shook the large man's outstretched hand and plunked down in the seat, not caring about her suit, other than hating wearing it.

"Actually, sir, I am not a psychologist as of yet, I am working on my dissertation for my doctorate. I was here before with Dr. Goldberg".

"Right, right, Downtown set that up, good idea if you ask me." Perolli moved his formidable girth across the desk toward Sam. "Between you and me, I think some of the guys might be a little..." He made a whirling motion beside his temple.

Sam took a long breath, wondering how to proceed. "I don't plan on calling anyone crazy, I just want to see how therapy may or may not effect coping mechanisms and the onset of PTSD in emergency workers".

"You lost me there, doll face", Perolli said, but waved her off as she opened her mouth to explain, "It is all going to sound like Greek no matter how you try to explain it, but if Downtown thinks it is a good idea, than I think it is. But we don't have money in the budget for any special arrangements or accommodations".

Sam cocked her head to the side, wondering what he was alluding to and then laughed. "Don't worry sir, I grew up with five brothers in a small house".

Perolli chuckled back, "I can only imagine. Just what do you need then".

"Mostly just access to the guys. As I said on the phone, I need to have weekly sessions with one group of guys and nothing but observation on the other. I can do group or individual sessions, it doesn't matter. First I need to observe both groups to get a baseline of where they are..." Sam trailed off as she realized Perolli was not paying a bit of attention to her, and a lot more attention to his meatball sub. "Let me guess, Greek?" she sighed, blowing her hair out of her face.

"Greek, just do whatever you have to do, don't get in the way and don't bug me. Welcome to the house". With that Perolli waved her out of his office and went back to his sub.


	5. Little Sister

_**A/N: For my fan who wanted me to update, my muse finally caught fire! Spoilers in the way back machine for "Gay". Still on hiatus, but have a little more than this written!

* * *

**_

"Welcome to 62 Truck" Sam growled as she headed toward the kitchen. She knew this wasn't going to be easy, but she had hoped that Colin's call would have helped a little bit more than it apparently had. She was pouring a viscous cup off coffee when she heard a slightly familiar voice behind her.

"You into S&M or something kid, because I can't believe you are back for more".

Sam whirled, cursing aloud as coffee slopped over the side of her mug. "Fuck me!"

Gavin smirked, "Shouldn't be a problem, Franco will fuck anything in a skirt".

"I'll keep that in mind", Sam quipped, reaching for a stack of napkins, "It's Tommy, right?".

Gavin nodded and then continued, "So why didn't you mention you were Colin Murphy's sister the last time you were here?" He leaned against the counter and watched her clean up the puddle, laughing as she wadded up the pile of napkins in disgust after seeing the grime on them.

She studied the man for a long beat before answering. "Considering you know who he is, would you admit to being related to him?"

Gavin cracked an easy smile, "Well I probably would, but you obviously don't know shit about my family".

"Not yet", Sam cracked back.

Gavin raised his eyebrows before laughing, though it sounded slightly hallow to Sam's ears.

* * *

Sam dragged herself from the subway to her apartment, exhausted beyond belief. She had no idea it would be so exhausting just observing the two groups of men in the station. But she couldn't say she hadn't been warned. "Speak of the devil", she sighed, spying Colin leaning against the door to her building. "You kinda look like a pedophile just standing there, C", Sam called out.

"Very funny, sis, and I will have you know that you have plenty of hospitable neighbors who offered to let me in", Colin replied with a dimpled grin.

"God help me, how many?" Sam asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

"Let's just say I am good on dates for the next month". Colin stretched like a cat, and raised his eyebrows, as he opened the door after Sam had unlocked it.

"You are such an ass", Sam sighed.

Colin grinned, "Apparently a hot ass", he quipped before following her inside.

"You looked whipped", Colin said as soon as Sam slumped on her bed in her living/bedroom.

"Did you come here to do anything other than insult me?"

"Yeah, I came to see if you had any more of Nona's leftovers".

"Fridge", Sam said burying her head under her pillow.

Colin was over like a shot, happily fixing a plate with most of the edible contents of her refrigerator.

"You at least think about saving me anything?" Sam asked after Colin had settled himself in front of her tv with his plate.

"I won't eat all of this", Colin gestured to his heaping plate.

Gus gave a slight snort, "Yeah right!"

"I won't", Coling protested, before turning serious. "So how's it going at the house?"

"It's going". Sam refused to expound further.

Colin stared at her, waiting for the truth to come to the surface.

Sam growled, propping herself on her elbow, knowing her brother was going to keep staring at her until she filled him in. "Slowly. And exhaustingly. I don't know how you have enough energy to chase all that tail, C, because just watching the guys go out on call after call..."

Colin shrugged, "It's a busy house, I mean, look where it is".

"Yeah, remind me next time to ask for a house out in Staten Island".

"You would be bored off your ass there, though they might actually talk to you, looking all Miss Uptight".

"Excuse me?" Sam asked, looking down at her pinstriped suit, "It is called looking professional, we can't all lounge around in jeans and too tight t-shirts".

"Yeah, but you are going to have to fit in more if you want the guys to open up and be themselves".

"I think my boobs will prevent me from fitting it".

"Just be yourself, Sammy, you don't look this way normally, you look like a shrink".

"Well considering I am trying to be a psychologist, maybe I should look like one", Sam countered.

Colin shook his head. "Fine, have it your way, but if you want the guys to talk to you, you'll listen to me".

"OK, OK. The why don't you pick me out some fucking clothes for tomorrow, I am too tired to worry about it anyway".

Colin put his hands up in protest before going back to shoveling food in his mouth."You don't have to get testy with me, sis, besides what makes you think I could pick you out anything anyhows? It isn't like I am a fag or anything".

Sam pulled herself up and said, "Could you please not use that word, C?"

"Don't tell me you are going lesi or something", Colin teased.

"Argh", Sam groaned, flipping over so her top half was hanging off the daybed.

Colin finished his food, dropped his plate to the floor and started channel surfing. "There's nothing on", he declared after a moment.

"Maybe there is at your place", Sam snorted, still hanging upside down, hoping the rush of blood to her head would give her some clarity. Colin finally settled on a channel. Sam waited until a commercial to say, So what did you think about that story in the _Post_? The guys at the house were all up in arms about it tonight".

"What story?" Colin asked, his attention on the scantily clad woman on the screen selling something unrelated to her lack of clothing.

Sam rolled her eyes before carefully pulling herself back up to sitting. "The thing about the fags, I mean gays".

"Jesus, Sammy, be more politically correct, would ya? People are gonna do what they want to do, as long as they are doing it behind closed doors and ain't trying to turn me I'm fine".

"I am glad you are so open minded, now pick me out some clothes and go to your own damn place, I am exhausted".


	6. Badge Bunny

_**A/N: Just a quick one before I run off to the West Coast. Here's to hoping I find my muse and bring her back with me. I have a feeling she is drunk in Napa!

* * *

**_

Sam got to the house the next day where the current of excited chattering died as soon as she walked in. She could feel eyes beating into her, and wasn't exactly sure if it was any different than any other day.

"Hey Doc, you look different", one of the engine guys said finally.

Sam looked down at her denim trousers and fitted t-shirt that Colin had picked out for her. "It's just Samantha, Leo, not a doctor yet, and yeah, thought maybe I should be a little more casual being around you pigs all day".

"Well it's nice, goes together real well", Leo replied with a grin.

"Oh god, don't tell me you have gone all faggot too!" one of the other guys ribbed.

"Watch it, or he might clobber you like Jerry did".

"Like the lion over here could clobber anyone, had enough trouble hoofing it up those stairs yesterday".

"Fuck you, McConnell", Leo said, storming off.

"Aw, someone got his feelings hurt, maybe you should go kisses his owies doc", McConnell retorted.

"Babies, bunch of fucking babies", Sam muttered, walking up to the kitchen for coffee.

***

Sam entered the kitchen to find Sean and Mikey sitting around the table. They both looked at her for a long moment like they couldn't figure out why she was there.

"Uh, hi guys", she said, reaching for the coffee pot.

"Hey", they both said, stealing glances of her as she reached for a mug out of the cabinet.

"Thanks a lot Colin, now guys are going to be staring at my ass all day", Sam said under her breath.

"What?" Sean asked.

Sam turned, catching Mikey opened mouth. "You might want to close that before a bug flies in", she stated, crossing her hands over her chest only to watch their eyes follow.

"God damn it", she growled before catching Sean's hands under the table.

"Please, please tell me you not so hard up that you are wanking it under the table! I am sure Colin has more than few extra numbers he could throw your way", Sam demanded, sliding out a chair and flopping angrily into it.

Mikey laughed as Sean turned red. "No, I'm not!" he protested, "it's just...just". He turned even redder.

"Garrity, please recall that I am a trained therapist, there is nothing that is going to shock me, plus with five older brothers it ain't like I haven't caught anyone rubbing one out a time or two". Sam hoped that was enough to break the ice, even if she was just supposed to be observing 62 Truck, she still had to have them be themselves.

"He got his balls waxed", Mikey suddenly revealed, laughter rocking his shoulders.

"Shut up, Probie", Sean yelled, swiping at him.

"Hey, I made my first grab yesterday, so you can quit calling me Probie", Mikey protested.

"That'll be the day. Colin still gets called Probie from time to time, and Pat'll get called boot until he gets his detective shield I am sure", Sam offered up taking a long drink of coffee.

"So you have a brother in the FD and one in the PD?" Mikey asked, looking incredulous.

"Two in NYPD actually, plus an attorney with the DA and a wannabe rock star. Plus my pops was a cop, he just retired, I think 9/11 was the last straw".

"Well no shit", Sean said finally, still scratching at his crotch until Sam gave him a long look. "Sorry", he quipped.

"You guys didn't think I was just some over educated badge bunny or something did you?" Sam asked after a moment.

The looks on their faces told the whole story.

"Jesus, like I would put myself through this much work. You guys fuck anything in a skirt", Sam said, playing absently with her ponytail.

"Why are you here then?" Sean asked.

"She's here to spy on us, see if any of us need to be Section'd 8 or not", a voiced said from behind them.

"I am not!" Sam protested, jumping out of her seat and facing off with Tommy Gavin.

He responded with a laugh, "Take it easy, girl, I was just seeing if it was as easy to get you mad as your brother. I see it is". He breezed past her reeking of cigarette smoke and stale whiskey.

"Of course you were", Sam sighed, slumping against the counter.

"So what happened with Chief Reilly?" Sam asked, figuring Gavin if anyone would tell her.

Gavin shot her a searing look before locking down on her upper arm and dragging her out of the kitchen.

"What was that about?" Sean asked. Mikey just shrugged.

***

"Don't you say another word about Jerry. What did you hear?" Gavin demanded, right in her face, backing her against the wall.

"Just something about him clobbering somebody from one of the guys on the Engine". Sam refused to shirk away, even though the man was more than a little scary.

"That's it?" Gavin pressed.

"Yes, Tommy, that is all. Is there anything you would like at add to what otherwise is just a rumor?", Sam arched one eyebrow.

"No, there is nothing I would fucking like to add, and you might want to keep your trap shut about it as well. You can't come into the house and stir up shit any more than just you and your T&A already are". Gavin punctuated his words by stabbing his finger into her shoulder.

Sam held her hands up, "OK, I got it, no shit stirring. Something tells me you boys do enough of that on your own. I am just here to observe".

"Then go observe", Gavin said, finally stepping aside.

***

Sam didn't have to wait long to get the story, as Chief Perolli called her into his office the very next day.

"So you settling in OK?" Perolli asked, more interested in his paper than in looking at her.

"Well enough", Sam answered.

"Well enough?" his voice held a mocking tone. "Listen Doc..."

"I'm not a-"

Perolli cut Sam off by holding up his palm, "Whatever you want to fuc-" he cleared his throat, "whatever you call yourself, I got a situation with Jerry and I need it handled".

Sam looked at him for a long beat until she realized he was waiting on her. "Me, you want me to handle it?"

Perolli nodded.

"I am just supposed to be observing the men at this point".

Perolli waved his hands, "so you can observe Jerry and maybe tell him how not to beat up any more faggots, I mean homosexuals".

"That really isn't the way this works", Sam protested

"Well if you want to stay in my house it is". Perolli gave her a look that said he wasn't kidding.

Sam felt her gut twinge but figured she had no choice, "What exactly do you think Jerry needs help with?"

Perolli laughed, "A hell a lot more than a head shrinker can give, more like he needs an attorney, but maybe some of that, whaddyacallit, Anger Management?"

"I'll see what I can do, sir", Sam sighed before leaving the office.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: I don't know if I found my muse or not, but I did find some old writings, and figured I would post them since Rescue Me is supposedly finally coming back. Hope some of you might still be around. And yes, this story is still in the way back machine.

* * *

_

Sam went off in search of Jerry, but couldn't seem to find him. She ran into Tommy Gavin and asked if he had seen him.

Gavin shook his head, "Nah, I think he took off after talking to that investigator from downtown, needed to cool down".

"Oh, crap". Sam looked crestfallen.

"No kidding. Look, about yesterday-" Before he could say anything else, the alarm sounded and Gavin seemed to disappear.

"Stay safe, Gavin", Sam said getting out of the way of the men pouring from all areas of the firehouse.

"What the hell do you want?" Jerry snapped as he looked up from his newspaper to find the head shrinker staring at him.

Sam felt herself flush, she had been standing there for quite some time trying to figure out how to broach the subject of anger management with the chief.

Jerry immediately regretted his tone, it was one thing to yell at the guys, but the last thing he needed was this pretty young thing telling anyone downtown that he was flying off the handle at the drop of the hat. "Sorry kid, it's this damn ruling, they are hitting below the belt and I am-", Jerry paused.

"Pissed?" Sam suggested.

Jerry gave a wry grin, "Pissed is one word for it".

"Mind if I sit?" Sam asked, gesturing to the chair across from him.

Jerry nodded before going back to his paper and Sam groaned internally, feeling like she had missed an opening. Sam sat in silence for as long as she could. "Um, Jerry, if you ever want to talk or anything, it can stay between us, just so you know".

Jerry grunted in response, flipping his paper closed before stalking off.

"Well that went well", Sam said to an empty room.

* * *

Sam was sitting through her first tense group session with the guys from Engine 99 when the sound of yelling and crying interrupted them from out in the engine room. Curiosity won out for about half of the guys, who quickly left to see what the commotion was all about.

The rest quickly followed suit, leaving Sam yelling after them, "So do you want to reschedule for tomorrow?"

O'Brady simply shook his head, "Let it go kid, Franco is having a knock down drag out with an ex old lady, even your tits ain't gonna beat that".

"Thanks for the insight, Thomas", Sam sighed, following behind them in search of coffee.

* * *

"Fucking bullshit, I just want you to be clear of this, because I'm your friend, that is some god damned pussy bullshit, Sean", Franco stormed into the TV room and punched at the wall.

"Nice jab", Sam commented from the couch where she had been highlighting a journal article.

Franco scowled her at a long moment, trying to shake out his hand without her noticing.

She raised her eyebrows at him before walking out of the room. Sam returned a couple of minutes later with ice wrapped in the cleanest towel she could find, handing the bundle to Franco wordlessly as he sat flipping through the channels with his jaw clenched.

"You think I'm wrong, don't you?" Franco asked after settling the ice over his swelling knuckles.

"I didn't say a word". Sam sat back down, struggling to remain impassive.

Franco sighed, "But you got that look".

"What look?" Sam inquired.

"That look all chicks get when they are judging you for being an asshole".

"Are you an asshole? I don't think that was in my notes," Sam countered.

"It's just Garrity and Nez".

"Nez, she the one that was raising holy hell today?"

Franco nodded, "came here trying to stir up shit, telling me I got a kid. Like hell I would have a kid and not know".

"Yeah, with the weird cravings and morning sickness and all that guys get". Sam couldn't help herself from rolling her eyes, Franco was cut from the same cloth as her brother.

Franco stared at her for a beat, shocked at her candor. "I'm just saying I would know".

Sam bit her lip to stop from smiling. "OK, so you would know, but she's going to think what she is going to think until you prove her wrong".

Franco scowled, "So you agree with Sean?"

Sam leaned forward, resting a palm on her chin. "I don't know, do I?"

"You always answer a question with a question?"

Sam shrugged, "Comes with the trade, they teach it to you on day one".

Franco didn't reply, anger still flitting across his features.

"It's a simple test, would get her off your back for good, you can't refute pure science. Unless you are afraid it might be yours". Sam turned back to her article.

Franco growled, "I don't have a kid".

"Then prove it", Sam replied without looking up.

"Thanks for the ice", Franco said before leaving the room.

"No problem", Sam answered, once again speaking to an empty room.


End file.
